A Month Too Small
by Aeon'sChild
Summary: Harry's seventh year...Draco's changing his ways, and eventually brings the two together, but they only have a month left at Hogwarts...
1. Default Chapter

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Author: Black Heart  
  
Title: A Month Too Small  
  
Rating: R for later slash themes  
  
Author's Note: Slash eventually....wait a few more chapters. ^-~  
  
Disclaimer: Characters, names, places, etc., belong to JK Rowling. Plotline belongs to ME.  
  
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CHAPTER 1  
  
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Harry sighed, staring at the mirror, fussing with his collar.  
  
"Damn these dress robes," he cursed furiously, trying to force down the royal emerald collar.  
  
"You look quite charming, dear," the mirror wheezed at him.  
  
Harry shook his head, and picked up some muggle's hair gel Hermione had given to him.  
  
"You really need to put this to use," she had said, eyeing his unruly hair, having to crane her neck upwards. He had grown considerably taller than what he used to be. So he stuck a finger in the goo and made a face.  
  
"It ain't happenin', Harry. That hair of yours will just ping back up again, mate," Ron said from behind him. He was dressed in black dress robes. He didn't really look any different from when he was studying or in class. He'd had enough of standing out with vibrant colours and lace. Harry grinned to himself at the memory of the Yule ball in their fourth year.  
  
"Shall we get going?" Ron said smoothly, holding his hand towards the door.  
  
"Shut your face," Harry replied, straightening his thin wire frames. He had long ago changed his boyish, round glasses. Actually, he had changed them once he realized that Quidditch-related muscles, tanned skin and an apparently "cute" hairstyle (quoted by a group of sixth year witches) did NOT belong with kiddy glasses. And that happened right at the start of his fifth year. Hermione had transfigured the glasses into better-looking, thin, black, rectangular frames, something for which he was very grateful.  
  
He was, in fact, in his last month of his seventh year at Hogwarts. His last month... So much had happened in the past few years.  
  
Attacks from Voldemort had gone from small murders, whispered in taverns, to a full-out war. Muggles were now informed that foreign terrorists were roaming the country and that they should stay in safety. Wizards and witches were to stay indoors after sundown; and at all times, there were Aurors and ministry wizards guarding the streets of the wizarding world - some were under disguise, guarding the muggle world. It was insane. And with the constant news of Voldemort's antics, Harry had double the attention, because people were sure something would happen, involving him. And so his popularity soared.  
  
Yet Hogwarts itself had hardly changed. The atmosphere was a little more tense, and there were always people crying in the corridors, clutching letters or newspaper clippings with news of their parents' death. But apart from that, Hogwarts was Hogwarts, with the normal lessons and teenage lives constantly flinging from emotion to emotion.  
  
Indeed a lot of people were now no longer innocent teenagers, and there were people being caught in empty classrooms in the middle of the night, making love behind stacked desks. The sixth and seventh years had learnt within the first week of their school year that such acts were punished with extremely unpleasant 12-hour detentions every day for a week, and the punished were usually found by Peeves, who later gave out the details to the other sixth and seventh years, much to the dislike of Professor McGonagall.  
  
And so life went on, amidst the worst wizarding conflict in the history of wizarding kind. A sign of the strange normality was Draco Malfoy. His appearance had changed remarkably. He was now a complete opposite of Harry. Draco was not muscled, but skinny. He was tall, slender and paler than what he once was - his body was almost feminine. His terribly light grey eyes flickered menacingly from student to student as he strutted the halls, making people look away or hurry off, quite terrified. His silver hair was often being toyed with by a Slytherin girl hanging off his arm, Crabbe and Goyle in tow, still much as they had been. Draco had had so many girlfriends and treated each one to a 'night-out' so often that he had the sexual-act punishment lined up for months that would have lasted long after graduation, to which he laughed and gloated about.  
  
To any person not in Slytherin, there was no doubt he was either a Death Eater or almost one, and he was hated for it. And yet no one except the seventh year Gryffindor boys dared say a bad word against him. Such was the fear that Malfoy managed to produce around the school.  
  
But he was a student, and was treated like one. Snape was also ordered to act natural towards the boy, instead of showing his real emotions. And so the special treatment to Draco in particular continued.  
  
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Harry sighed, walking down the dormitory stairs, earning more than a few glances from Gryffindor girls. He didn't have a date, and didn't want one. He and Ron were going to the end-of-Hogwarts-ball just for the fun of it.  
  
And so, twenty minutes later with a troupe of giggling, dateless girls watching them, Harry and Ron found themselves in a corner of the Great Hall, swigging down more Butterbeer than was sensible, watching Hermione dance with her date.  
  
"Can't believe she scored him, though," Ron said, and belched.  
  
"Yeah, I know, but hey, he's a Ravenclaw. Pretty boy or not, he's smart. Guess that's why she likes him so much," Harry replied, watching the tall blonde Ravenclaw smiling at Hermione.  
  
"I can't believe he'd stoop so low as to go out with a Mudblood bitch," a cold voice commented. Harry looked up and, as a result of his Butterbeer, was more than ready for something 'good' to happen at the boring dance.  
  
He leapt to his feet, and stared Draco Malfoy in the face. They were the same height, but Harry, having more muscles, seemed to physically daunt the pale Slytherin. Thought not mentally.  
  
Draco sneered, a silver lock of his hair falling in front of his face.  
  
Harry grabbed his collar. "What did you just say about Hermione?" Harry snarled.  
  
Draco smiled coldly. His stormy eyes flickered down to Harry's feet, then moved upwards slowly, taking in the brand new dress robes and the new silver watch that was revealed as Harry held Draco by the collar.  
  
"Dear, dear...someone seems to be flourishing in these hard times. What, is your precious Order paying you simply because you're The Golden Boy?" Draco said softly, shaking his head accusingly, then spat directly onto Harry's Head Boy badge.  
  
"POTTER! MALFOY! GIVE IT A REST!" It was McGonagall, currently being twirled about by Hagrid.  
  
Professor McGonagall had, like the other teachers, become used to the semi- serious conflicts between Draco and Harry. It occurred quite often in the hallways.  
  
Harry abruptly let go of Malfoy, and sat down. Draco gave a last smirk and walked away. The Slytherin gathered his newest girlfriend into his arms and started making out with her. She was wider than he was as he pinned her body to the wall.  
  
Ron shuddered at it.  
  
"What's up with YOU? You used to jump at the chance to get your hands on him," Harry snapped at Ron, who had held back from the argument.  
  
"Seems like your territory, really. It's become kinda regular, ever since this year. You two are the main topic of gossip, when it's not about You- Know-Who: the two 'hottest guys to walk the halls of Hogwarts'," Ron mimicked in a high-pitched voice.  
  
"Who said that?" Harry sniggered, picking up his Butterbeer again.  
  
"A bunch of seventh-year Ravenclaws. Apparently the female population are torn between you and Malfoy."  
  
Harry fell silent, strangely proud - not of the fact girls liked him (he was far used to that), but by the fact that everyone now feared Draco Malfoy and knew that only Harry Potter could penetrate that territory. Why had he only found this out in their last month of Hogwarts?  
  
Harry shook his head, clearing these odd thoughts, stood up, refused yet another invitation to dance, and headed up the marble staircase.  
  
Ron stayed behind, swigging down more Butterbeer, glaring at the girls who were ordering him to persuade Harry to come back.  
  
He set down his Butterbeer and yelled at them over the music that perving wasn't the only thing dances were good for, and offered them a Butterbeer.  
  
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"Potter."  
  
Harry turned slowly on the middle landing of the stairs, knowing who that icy voice belonged to. He fingered the wand in his pocket. The music coming from the Great Hall thudded in time to his pounding heart - he wasn't angry - not yet; but every time he and Malfoy faced off, he always felt a thrill of pleasure rush through his body. He assumed it was the fact that this was his ultimate prey; Voldemort could wait, but Draco came first on his list of victims (Crabbe and Goyle were just behind Voldemort).  
  
Draco was stood a few stairs below. He was very stealthy, owing to his light figure, and Harry hadn't heard the Slytherin stalking him. Draco really had changed. He had gone from the schoolyard bully to a sort of...devil. There was no word for it. Harry looked upon the boy now so slender and pale who appeared strange without a girl clinging to him. His white-silver hair blew around his head as a draught blew down the stairs.  
  
"What now, you bastard?" Harry spat, feigning anger.  
  
"Just wanted a word with you, Harry, that's all."  
  
Harry stared.  
  
"Didn't know we were on a first name basis, Draco," Harry replied, emphasizing the boy's name.  
  
"Oh, I wonder why," Draco said sarcastically, dropping the fake friendliness. He stuck his hands in the pockets of his vampiresque jet dress robes, and slowly sauntered up the last few stairs until he was on Harry's landing. He kept his eyes to the floor, keeping Harry to his right side.  
  
"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry asked warily.  
  
Draco turned to him and looked up, and Harry's eyes widened. Draco had suddenly turned a hell of a lot more paler, and his usually sharp, menacing eyes held a component Harry had rarely seen on the Slytherin: fear. Draco was obviously worried or scared about something - why else would he appear so afraid? Why else would his usually sneering face suddenly seem soft and relaxed, yet tinged with panic?  
  
Draco gave a visible swallow, and opened his mouth.  
  
"Ooooh, it's the two widdle rivals, having a civil conversation!!! Should tell the media, I should. WORLD BREAKING NEWS!!!" Peeves cackled, zooming out from a classroom and around them in a wide circle. Draco's expression wiped over and was replaced by rage as he bared his teeth and grabbed Peeves around the neck. Harry admitted to himself that even he would have quailed under the look Draco gave the poltergeist.  
  
"Piss off, Peeves. I swear it on my own mother's grave. PISS OFF."  
  
Peeves stared at Draco and seemed so surprised that when he fell to the floor, he stayed there a few seconds, staring up at Draco with wide eyes. Nobody had ever reacted to him this way, NOBODY.  
  
Harry was worried about something else though - he realized Draco had just been about to open up to him. He saw in his mind again the way Draco hid his real feelings within the blink of an eye.  
  
Something's definitely up Harry thought.  
  
Peeves then picked himself up and zoomed off quickly, around a corner, and they heard a distant door slam.  
  
"So..." Harry began, his brow furrowed from wonder.  
  
Draco looked at the floor, then at Harry's face, and a flicker of terror passed over the stormy-grey eyes.  
  
It seemed that Draco had lost his nerve, as he turned and fled down the stairs.  
  
"WAIT!" Harry yelled, but the Slytherin ran on through the corridor, his short silver hair shining in the dimly lit hall, before disappearing into the Great Hall. 


	2. The Scuffle

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Author: Black Heart  
  
Title: A Month Too Small  
  
Rating: PG-13 - low level swearing, slash theme  
  
Author's Note: Slash eventually....wait a few more chapters. ^-~ Much thanks to Alicia for helping! And...  
  
***OH MY GOSH! Thanks SOOO much to all the people who reviewed!! You guys are angels! Hope this chapter satisfies your insatiable need for H/D action...hehe. :) ***  
  
Disclaimer: Characters, names, places, etc., belong to JK Rowling. Plotline belongs to ME.  
  
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CHAPTER 2  
  
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A week after the ball, the students of Hogwarts had received the results of their NEWTs. Suddenly the corridors were filled with people clutching their papers, moaning about their dismal results.  
  
"Well, I knew I'd do OK, but I didn't know I'd come out with all O's!" Hermione said proudly, her eyes shining.  
  
The three were stood in the Charms corridor, comparing results.  
  
"Yeah, well..." Ron replied glumly. He still refused to tell them what he'd got.  
  
Harry, on the other hand, was really quite pleased with himself. He had managed to scrape mostly O's except for Divination and Transfiguration, much to McGonagall's annoyance.  
  
"Well, I just need to take a nip in the library, I'll see you at dinner!" Hermione said cheerfully, before bustling off down the corridor.  
  
"Oi! Exams are over! What are you studying for?!" Ron shouted incredously after her. Hermione just waved over her shoulder as she turned a corner.  
  
"Argh, I'll go after her, " Ron said, and jogged off after Hermione, leaving a disgruntled Harry behind.  
  
And then he heard a loud drawling voice come from behind him.  
  
"If it isn't wee Pothead!" Malfoy sneered, Crabbe and Goyle following him. Pansy was attached to Draco's arm, her pug-like face attempting a sneer (but failing considerably, as it made her look more like a gargoyle than ever).  
  
"Where's your Mudblood bitch, Potter? Gone off to owl her Muggle-filth parents, showing them her results? And what about Weasel? Has he gone and sold his results for a Galleon? Might buy his fat mother a new dress with it, eh?"  
  
Anger began to boil in the pit of Harry's stomach.  
  
"So what about you, Malfoy? I saw Professor McGonagall look shocked when she gave you back your paper. What, did you manage a D or something? I bet that's the first decent grade in the Malfoy family, what with their intellect about the same as a teaspoon," Harry replied nastily.  
  
A slow haze of magenta crept across Draco's pale cheeks. Harry's heart thudded painfully; he felt strangely satisfied to cause Draco such anger.  
  
"Watch your mouth, Potter," Draco said softly, "Do you really want to end up dying like the pile of dirt you are, just like your parents did?"  
  
Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy knew instantly he'd gone too far.  
  
Within a split second of Malfoy's comeback, Harry launched himself at the Slytherin, rage pulsing through his veins - he had never felt this furious in all his life, not once. His other fights with Draco were only ever half- serious and usually verbal - Draco knew when to draw the line before they got into serious trouble.  
  
But now Harry just wanted to injure Draco for all it was worth, forgetting about magic at all, like he had done when he first met Sirius in his third year - it seemed like 7 years of insults and threats from Draco had finally sent Harry over the edge.  
  
The two boys landed on the stone floor, Harry on top, sitting on Malfoy's chest. He drew back a fist and drove it into Draco's cheek - Malfoy's skin tore away where a ring on Harry's finger had grazed along and blood spilled messily onto the Slytherin's robes.  
  
But Draco, being more agile, managed to push Harry off as the dark-haired boy drew back his fist again. Harry fell back, a surprising amount of force coming from Draco's thin arms, and skidded on his backside. Draco, looking for a much larger excuse than verbal harassment to let out some pent-up frustration, picked Harry up off the floor by the collar, then kneed him in the groin. Harry bent over double, then stood up with a large amount of effort, and hit Malfoy in the stomach.  
  
The violent acts got steadily dirtier, and a crowd was gathering, cheering both of them on, not caring who won.  
  
"You - bastard - " Harry gasped after 30 seconds of maniacal scuffling, coughing up blood that spattered onto the hem of Draco's shoes. It seemed that Draco had remembered that his wand existed, and had hit Harry in the stomach with a strange curse, managing to severely wind the Gryffindor and crush his ribs at the same time.  
  
"Yeah, well, you deserved it!" Draco said hoarsely, looking strange with his hair on end. "Yeah?" Harry asked dangerously, raising his wand.  
  
"Don't even try it, Potter! EXPELLIA -"  
  
"IMPEDIMENTA!" Harry roared before Draco could finish.  
  
Draco jumped to the side trying to dodge the jet of light, but the curse hit him on his hand and his wand flew over the excited crowd. Jeers at Draco erupted from non-Slytherins. Hannah Abbott collected his wand from the floor and held it up triumphantly, refusing to give it back to its owner.  
  
His face red from both fury and blood, Draco straightened his back slowly, almost gracefully, drawing his slender limbs about him, where he carefully massaged a massive bruise on his forehead.  
  
Harry watched him warily, wondering what was coming. And suddenly, with a force that made his breath catch in his throat, Harry remembered their conversation at the ball only a week ago, and remembered how Draco had been just about to open up about something. Harry wondered what it had been, before seeing again in his mind the enraged expression on Draco's face when he had been interrupted by Peeves.  
  
The memory washed away, leaving Harry staring at Draco, who was staring back. Slowly, the pink on Draco's cheeks grew more and more apparent, and Harry watched as the fury built up. And suddenly he felt just how Peeves had done a week ago.  
  
Forgetting all dignity, Draco had let out a shrill scream of sheer fury and launched himself towards Harry, not unlike the way the fight had begun.  
  
The speeding Malfoy hit him in the chest and sent Harry flying into the wall a few feet behind him; Draco couldn't stop himself, and so hit Harry a second time by accident, crushing himself and the Gryffindor together. They lay a few seconds, crumpled in a heap, the crowd now silent. Nobody had seen Draco so angry, and they were afraid. Soon it became clear this wasn't just a schoolyard fight - this was serious. Hannah threw Draco's wand to the floor and ran down the corridor, her pigtails flying.  
  
His head pressed against Harry's chest, Draco sat back and retrieved himself from the Gryffindor, stunned by the impact. He fell back onto his ass and looked at Harry from behind heavily hooded eyelids.  
  
Harry seemed to have copped it ten times worse than Draco, due to the solid brick in his back - he was propped against the wall and blood was trickling down his forehead. He had (luckily) chosen to wear contacts today, and blinked back blood from behind them. His scar was bright red.  
  
As Draco looked at the lightning bolt with a trace of fascination, his anger drained away. Harry appeared incapable of doing anything to retaliate, and so they sat there for a few minutes, panting, wiping blood from themselves. The crowd stood stock-still.  
  
"Ow."  
  
Draco looked up, and saw Harry looking at him from beneath his eyelids, his head against the wall. A trace of a grin was on his face.  
  
Draco gave a snort. He felt insanely humoured by such a stupid comment. "'Ow'? That's all you can say after all that shit we just did to one another?" he said, grinning.  
  
"Yeah..." Harry said, his smile slowly fading: for he had just witnessed Draco Malfoy grinning - a thing he had never seen in his life. A genuine smile seemed so foreign on the boy - and the difference it made was startling. Harry was no longer looking at the slimy git Malfoy, but at Draco - a slim yet tall boy, whose reflexes in Quidditch could match his own - a boy with wits nobody could rival at the best of times. Draco was so much different to Malfoy - a difference that suddenly sent Harry down a spiral of emotion and surprise; his mind felt clouded and foggy and his vision seemed to be failing as his heart pounded against his ribs faster and faster - the platinum hair was fluffed up and ever so bright, and those pale-yet-stormy eyes were surveying him closely...the thin, peach lips parted slowly, and as Harry looked back at Draco's eyes, he saw them widen.  
  
The Slytherin's face held astonishment, and as they locked eyes, Harry knew they had both seen something in each other.  
  
"Boys!" a squeaky voice said not far from them. Harry and Draco tore their gaze from one another and realised the crowd had started to disperse. Hannah Abbott was stood next to tiny Professor Flitwick, her face afraid.  
  
"Such a disappointing display! You should know better!" Flitwick said sternly, a look of dismay upon his face. "I shall have to fetch Severus and Minerva to decide your punishment - "  
  
"No need," a curt voice said sharply. Flitwick and Hannah turned; Harry and Draco, both still sat on the floor, looked up and simultaneously felt their hearts plummet.  
  
Snape and McGonagall were striding down the corridor, both of them looking extremely angry. "Come, Draco," Snape said softly. Not looking at his Head of House, Draco stood, looked back at Harry with a look of foreboding, then followed Snape down the corridor. As the two turned a corner, shouts erupted, sounding like 'disgrace' and 'your father...!'  
  
Harry felt momentarily sorry for Malfoy, before he was brought back to reality by McGonagall, and suddenly hoped Draco could spare some sympathy for him, too. "MR POTTER! HOW DARE YOU BRING SUCH DISGRACE...."  
  
The shouting continued for a few minutes, long after Flitwick and Hannah had departed. When eventually a tight-lipped McGonagall would allow him to stand up and go back to the common room, Harry was halfway down the corridor when he remembered Draco had left his wand behind. Harry limped back to the spot where they had fought, and with a clenching of the stomach, saw that Flitwick hadn't managed to remove most of the bloodstains on the stone - there had been a lot of it, thanks to the pointed ring on Harry's finger, and Draco's constant hexes. There was a trickle of the stuff dried on his neck and his head suddenly swam. He stunk of blood and sweat.  
  
He picked up Draco's wand and jogged back to Gryffindor tower.  
  
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When he reached the common room, Hermione approached him and gave him a slap across the face. "Ow! Hermione! What the hell was that for?" Harry said angrily, only just having scrambled through the portrait hole.  
  
"Starting a fight as serious like that! I wouldn't be surprised at Malfoy for doing it, but YOU, Harry! YOU! I NEVER would have thought - "  
  
"Hermione, would you just tell him the bad news and get it over with quickly?" Ron said quietly, coming up beside Harry.  
  
"I - oh, alright then," Hermione said, beaten. In fact, on closer inspection, she looked quite miserable.  
  
"Wait, how did you know about the fight? And what bad news?" Harry said, dying to have a shower to get rid of the blood.  
  
"Everyone's talking about it, mate," Ron said, answering the first question. Indeed, people were looking at him, with wide, scared eyes, whispering to one another.  
  
"And the bad news...oh Harry! They're taking your badge! That's why you didn't get a detention!" Hermione said and burst into tears, handing him an official looking letter.  
  
Harry read it, his eyes widening, and saw it had been signed by McGonagall. When he had finished, a burning smell wafted up to his nose. He looked down and saw that his Head Boy badge had turned black. As he watched, it turned into a singed pile of ash that drifted down to the floor.  
  
He looked at the postscript on the letter.  
  
"Professor Snape has vouched for Mr Malfoy to become the new Head Boy. Despite his hand in your argument, Draco was permitted the badge by Professor Dumbledore."  
  
"Shit."  
  
Harry gave a sigh and walked off to the dorms. He didn't care about a silly badge, but the fact that Dumbledore had given it over to Malfoy really hit him hard - he felt guilty to have betrayed Dumbledore's trust. He was just glad they only had three weeks left to the end of Hogwarts.  
  
And yet, as he stood naked in the steaming shower a few minutes later, he remembered the moment he had seen the real Draco, not the sneering, vicious Malfoy, but the Draco who was as good a seeker as himself, the Draco with a sharp tongue and slender body, with that amazingly silver hair, and pale grey eyes....  
  
Harry looked down at the drain in the shower and saw blood pooling about the tiles as he washed off more of the foul-smelling stuff. Suddenly realising most of it was Draco's, a sensational thrill shot through his veins. To be alone with something that Draco had previously had in his own veins less than half an hour ago made him strangely hot inside. He sat down on the tiles, the bloodied water cool against his bare flesh. He smiled at the blood that was slowly dribbling down the drain and felt almost as though Draco was with him.  
  
Remembering the wand he had picked up after the fight, he suddenly couldn't wait to return it to its owner.  
  
The fiasco of the badge flew out of his mind as he closed his eyes, surrounded by Draco's blood; his own blood grew hotter in his veins as he again saw Draco's face with luffed-up platinum hair...  
  
He didn't realise just what these thoughts meant. 


End file.
